


i'll be there

by chaoticautumn



Category: South Park
Genre: Gen, Self-Harm, its 5 am rn im really fucking tired, just kinda. be careful i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 23:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17949416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticautumn/pseuds/chaoticautumn
Summary: Kyle's been weirdly quiet for a few months now, and Cartman ends up learning something he never intended to learn after making a joke.





	i'll be there

The past few months, Kyle’s been… well, there’s no other word to describe it. The usually fiery and much too loud redhead was fucking depressed. No one knew what had happened, or why he suddenly wore worn gray jackets and sweatpants instead of the normal bright colors with a metaphorical cloud over his head and dark circles under his usually sharp green eyes. He lost the life of him, the color drained and faded. It was like he was physically there, but mentally he was on a completely different dimension. He didn’t answer any questions, just walked away like no one was trying to talk to him. He talked, but it wasn’t at all often and resulted in him being socially tossed to the side.

Kenny accepted Kyle needed to be left alone and did just that. The blond would still flash worried looks in Kyle’s direction but didn’t try to start a conversation.

Stan was less easy to convince to leave Kyle alone. He very obviously didn’t know what was wrong and on the first day had asked way too many questions. Everyone could see Kyle trying to restrain himself from snapping at his best friend until Kenny managed to lead Stan away with a comforting hand on his shoulder. Stan still tried to talk to Kyle every day but with not much of the same excitement he used to hold. The redhead usually gazed blankly at him, a strange flicker of something unreadable in his dead eyes. He listened and replied with excuses for why he couldn’t hang out that day.

Cartman was a different story. The only glint of normalcy in Kyle was the irritated looks he glanced in Cartman’s direction and the occasional retort to an insensitive comment. The only times his voice was heard was when Cartman managed to rile the redhead up to furiously shouting something back at him. It was much rarer than before, but at least it still happened. The arguments that once brought everyone bouts of impatience gave out waves of relief there was still some of the well known Jew in the shadow of the person he was now. 

The brunette gained a wolfish grin when he caught sight of a familiar redhead rifling through his locker and sidled up to him. “Hey Jewboy.”

The annoyed look he got in return was the most he was going to get in response. At least he’d acknowledged him.

“So I was thinking,” Cartman drawled. “You should go hang out with the guys again. They’re going to Shakey’s after school. Your boyfriend won’t stop worrying about your Jew ass and Kenny’s patience with you is running out.”

“Got plans tonight,” Kyle murmured, shutting his locker with a kick to the metal door. He turned to Cartman, who resisted the urge to take a step back. The exhausted look draining him of the usual life in his eyes was never something anyone could get used to. “What do you get out of me being there anyway?”

Cartman snorted, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “The ability to hold a conversation without something about you being said.”

Stan slid up next Kyle, hopeful blue eyes bright. Kenny stood off to the side, watching silently with his parka zipped up, but Cartman could tell he held hope too. “Hey, dude. You coming?”

Kyle glanced over at Stan and shook his head silently, and Stan’s hopeful expression dropped a little bit. Cartman sighed in irritation. The poor kid looked like a beaten dog every time Kyle said no to plans.

“What’re you even doing today? Crying yourself to sleep with a razor slicing up your arms?” Cartman growled. He was getting fed up with Kyle just saying no with barely an explanation.

The scandalized look on Stan’s face was almost worth making the cutting joke, but Cartman could see the movement of Kyle’s subconscious tug on his sleeve and the sudden stiffness of his body out of the corner of his eye. _Holy fuck._ He didn’t think he’d be anything close to right. It was a god damn _joke,_ Kyle, Jesus Christ. Cartman blinked at him, suddenly very much regretting saying anything at all. Kyle’s expression never changed, but the dead tired eyes flickered with something that looked a lot like hurt. _Fuck._

Kyle rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No, asswipe, I’m doing something with my brother that doesn’t appear to be any of your business,” he said in irritation, and Cartman marginally relaxed despite the shock that had crashed through his body just moments before. The glimpses of Old Kyle were always something he would do anything to get.

Stan nodded, accepting the blatant lie with such ease Cartman almost had to snicker to himself. “Okay, man. Have fun with Ike,” he grinned, clearly excited to hear Kyle going out of his house of his own accord, even if it wasn’t true. Kenny’s smile was less excited, having also seen through Kyle’s lie, but wanting to humor him. Kyle gave a half-hearted attempt at smiling back at Stan, the small grin obviously not reaching his eyes. 

Stan and Kenny walked off, Stan happier than he’d been since Kyle showed up looking like he did. Cartman and Kyle watched them go silently, the weak smile quickly falling from Kyle’s lips when Stan’s back faced him. 

Cartman turned to Kyle, glancing at the long sleeves on his arms, the initial blow of Kyle tugging at his sleeves still reeling at the back of his mind. God fucking damn him, but Cartman was worried. He’d rather castrate himself than admit anything that gave anyone the semblance he cared, but fuck all if he didn’t. He sighed, already wanting to kick himself in the balls for what he was about to do.

A small yelp of surprise burst past Kyle’s lips when Cartman harshly grabbed hold of his wrist and tugged him down the hall. Cartman quickly loosened his hold, knowing Kyle didn’t have the energy to fight back, but didn’t let go. He swung the startled redhead into the boy's bathroom, being none too gentle, and locked the door behind him.

Kyle stared at him, surprise and defensiveness written clear across his face. Probably the clearest emotion besides weariness and irritation Cartman’s seen on him for weeks.

Cartman held out his hand and gestured to Kyle’s arm. 

Kyle blanked, unsure of what he wanted. His tired jade eyes flicked around the mostly empty bathroom, scanning for a way to get out of this, and Cartman sighed. He wasn’t keen to do this either, but if he didn’t do anything, he knew no one would, and Kyle would spiral deeper into this strange dissociation he was in.

“Arm, Kyle,” the brunette quietly said.

Kyle went rigid, and his arms stayed close to his side. Alarm flashed across the exhaustion, his eyes going wide.

Cartman didn’t move or repeat the sentence, just raised an eyebrow at Kyle.

Both knew Cartman could wrestle Kyle to the ground to get what he wanted, especially since Kyle stopped fighting back. It used to be the redhead would knock Cartman out in a single punch and go on with his life. But now he just accepted the teasing kicks and fists Cartman occasionally threw at him, no retaliation to be seen.

Kyle subconsciously crossed his arms, keeping them close to his body. Normally it’d be an intimidation tactic, but now it just looked like he was trying to fold into himself and disappear. Cartman sighed. Kyle wasn’t going to be as compliant as he had hoped.

“Kyle,” he said again, but stopped. He didn’t have a plan for what to say. Dammit, this is why he didn’t do impulsive things.

Kyle didn’t reply but his eyes focused out of the strange haze of panic that had somehow clouded them even more. Cartman took a small step forward, and Kyle took an equal if not bigger step back. His back was against the stall’s plastic wall, and Cartman took another step forward, ready to corner him if he tried to duck around the brunette.

Kyle grimaced as the larger boy advanced, shifting his weight and watching him warily, a hint of something rarely seen in Kyle glinting in his eyes. Shit, was he scared? Cartman hesitated at this realization. Kyle wasn't scared of things- he just wasn’t. 

Fuck, he wasn’t going to be able to do this if he kept acting like a little bitch and thinking about it. Just get it over with, Cartman. You’re already here, just _do it._

The brunette let out a soft breath, eyes flicking around Kyle’s face, and abruptly lunged at his arms, tearing them from the safety of Kyle’s chest and holding them out so he could examine them. Kyle’s sharp inhale told him he was not okay with this new development, but since when has Cartman cared about what Kyle thought? Cartman almost snorted at this thought. He’s cared for way too long about Kyle’s opinion.

Cartman glanced up from Kyle’s still covered arms, meeting his gaze and almost instantly tearing it away. Yea, Kyle was scared. Not something he wanted to see. 

He let go of an arm to carefully push back the sleeve of the other when the now free hand grabbed his wrist, halting his movements despite nothing being forceful. Cartman looked up again in irritation, but that annoyance drained when he saw the expression written across Kyle’s face.

“Please don’t,” Kyle whispered, panic laced into his voice. He sounded like he was on the verge of a breakdown.

Cartman nearly dropped his hands at that, but quickly shook himself off, trying to keep his composure. He pushed the rest of the clothing back to Kyle's elbow and, as gently as he could, twisted the forearm so he could look at it. 

Small white lines littered the pale skin, some looking newer than others, crisscrossing randomly. Some were dangerously close to the veins on his wrist. Cartman winced at how many there were, his heart sinking.

A breath hitched in Kyle’s throat as Cartman used the hand not holding Kyle to softly graze his fingers down the small ridges. God, there were a lot. It was a wonder Kyle hadn’t hit anything vital yet. 

Cartman looked back up to the redhead, his hands still on his forearm, and said the first thing that came to mind.

“What the fuck, Kyle?”

And he instantly mentally kicked himself.

The boy in question flinched away and tried to pull back his arm, but Cartman’s hold didn’t let him. Kyle looked away, clearly uncomfortable and ashamed of himself. “Please don’t tell Stan,” he croaked, voice strained.

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Yea, yea. I’m not gonna tell the hippie right now. He’d be crushed, and I’m not dealing with another month of that.” Kyle flinched again, but Cartman continued anyway. “Why the hell are you even doing this? Do you know just how fucking _stupid_ this is? I mean, look at this. You could’ve died, asshole.” His thumb gently ran over a line close to Kyle’s wrist to emphasize his point.

“That’d come as a relief at this point,” Kyle muttered, quietly enough Cartman wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it. 

Cartman hesitated, debating replying to him, but decided against it. “Answer my question, Jew.”

Kyle blinked and didn’t reply, unsure of what question he meant.

“Why are you doing this?” Cartman impatiently asked again, then paused, reconsidering his question. “Actually, why are you like this at all?” His gaze was back on the scars, studying them. Most of them didn’t even look like they were treated, but Cartman figured if Kyle was in the midst of whatever this was, his health and safety were probably the last things on his mind. 

Kyle exhaled slowly, watching Cartman’s hand move across his arm, guard fully up. “‘Like this?’” he repeated.

“You’re acting like one of those emo fags that sit outside the school and smoke all day and write poems about how shitty life is. You don’t leave your house anymore other than for school, and you’re barely around enough as it is for _that._ You don’t hang out with Stan, you barely talk with Kenny. You don’t even argue with me anymore.” Cartman’s voice almost broke and he paused before speaking again, his voice much quieter. “It’s like you just stopped fighting.”

Kyle stared at him. Cartman avoided meeting his gaze, keeping his eyes on his hands. God, he hated this. This was probably the biggest mistake he’s made, and he’s killed his dad. Oh, how he wished he could rewind time. 

“Why are you here?”

Cartman glanced up at the sudden question, confused by it. He met viridescent eyes that held a mix of emotions Cartman couldn’t read. “Why am I- what?”

“Why are you here? In this bathroom, cornering me and making me show you things I want to keep to myself,” Kyle added. His guard was still up and didn’t seem to be lowering any time soon.

Cartman blinked, unease settling in the pit of his stomach. He really didn’t want to explain why he was doing this- even if he didn’t exactly know why either. “You make it sound like I’m taking your dick pics,” he laughed nervously. 

“Cartman.”

God dammit, Kyle managed to switch it up and turn the questions on him. He was even using the same type tactic Cartman had just used.

Cartman looked back down at the arm he held in his hands. He supposed he _did_ kind of corner Kyle in a bathroom and force his sleeve up, and if he were doing this, he’d want to keep it to himself too. He gently tugged Kyle’s sleeve back down and dropped his arm, but didn’t move away otherwise. He made no attempt to answer Kyle, instead crossing his own arms, rubbing his upper arm slightly.

The instant Kyle was let go he pulled back, mirroring Cartman’s stance. Neither tried to talk.

Cartman sighed in growing irritation. Kyle wasn’t going to let him go if he didn’t answer. And the more he thought about it, Kyle never answered his own question. Sneaky Jew answered a question with a question.

Kyle’s gaze never left the brunette, waiting silently.

Cartman opened his mouth, then rethought about what he was going to say, and closed it again, then opened it again a moment later. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ll answer that after you answer mine.”

“Kyle, I asked first-”

“This,” Kyle gestured to himself with a hand, to the dark and probably dirty sweatshirt and the deep circles under his eyes. “This just kind of happened a few months ago. Don’t know why, don’t know how, but it just got worse until I could handle pretending to be the stuck up Jew bitch I’m supposed to be. I didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to move, didn’t want to do anything. Everything sucks, and I don’t want to leave my room. All I get is being tired and angry. Do you know what it’s fucking like living like this?”

Cartman hesitated, trying to process all that Kyle just said, and eventually shook his head.

Kyle took a step closer and it took everything Cartman had to not step back. Kyle was taller than him, only by an inch, but it was still scary as hell to have the once intimidating redhead loom over him.

Kyle leaned in, and Cartman still involuntarily shifted away. _“I want to die,”_ Kyle hissed.

Kyle stepped back, a sardonic smile growing across his lips. He shut his eyes tightly and pressed the heel of a palm to one of them, laughing bitterly. “But I can’t fucking do that, can I? No, I may be able to fight, but I’m a god damn coward when it comes down to it.” Hazy and dull eyes opened again and focused on Cartman. “I’ve tried, Cartman. I’ve really really tried. But I just can’t do this. So what’s the point? Stan and Kenny stopped caring about me even before whatever _this_ is happened, and you never did. Ike’s never around enough to notice and neither are my parents, for that matter. Why bother pretending to be something I’m not?” Kyle laughed again, even more bitter now, and slumped against the stall wall, covering his eyes with a hand. 

Cartman warily watched at him as he talked, a strange feeling he didn’t know how to describe weighing down his chest. That was probably the most anyone had heard Kyle talk for months. There was a long hesitation before either of them spoke again.

“That’s not true.”

Kyle didn’t reply but glanced over at Cartman, the question evident in his gaze.

“About us not caring, I mean,” Cartman quickly added, and Kyle rolled his eyes. “I’m seriously, Kyle. I’ve had to listen to almost every damn thing Stan and Kenny have to say. They’re worried about you, asswipe.”

Kyle made a noncommittal noise low in his throat and slid down the plastic wall to sit on the tiled floor of the bathroom, and Cartman wrinkled his nose in spite of the weight of the situation. That floor was disgusting. 

The redhead had curled in on himself, resting his head on his forearms, holding his knees to his chest. He looked… small. It was a drastic difference to the explosive Jew everyone knew. 

Cartman grimaced to himself as he quietly sat down next to Kyle, completely unsure of what to do. It felt strange looking down at Kyle, and this was the only solution he could think of that would rectify that. Other than forcing Kyle to stand, at least. _God,_ this floor was fucking _gross._

Kyle didn’t seem intent on talking, and Cartman wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence again. The brunette pulled out his phone, shooting a glance at Kyle, and sent a text to the private chat’s he had with Stan and Kenny.

_**bathroom 2nd flr. kyle isnt ok** _

He sat back as soon as he sent it, hoping to God neither of them was taking a test in the classes they were in.

Sure enough, someone’s fist soon pounded on the bathroom door Cartman had locked. Both boys jumped at the abrupt sound breaking the silence, and Cartman cursed quietly. He shot a quick look at Kyle as he stood to open the door- he looked worried and even more tired than usual, his eyes bleary and red. Fuck, if he was crying, Stan would try to kill him.

Cartman unlocked the door quietly and poked his head out, quickly recognizing the anxious looks of the noirette and the blond. Stan instantly pushed past him, Kenny following close behind, neither sparing Cartman a second glance.

Kyle had stood up as well but was almost instantly barreled over by Stan’s strong hug. Kenny stood behind Stan and wrapped an arm around Kyle’s shoulders after Stan eventually let go, Stan’s own arm hanging loosely off of Kyle on his other side. Kyle looked bewildered, glancing between the two of them with wide eyes.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell us you weren’t okay? We could’ve helped,” Stan quietly said, worry flashing in his expressive dark blue eyes.

Kyle opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again, then just shrugged in response.

Kenny pulled his hood down so his voice wouldn’t be muffled by the fabric. “Kyle, you know we’re here for you, right?”

Cartman could visibly see Kyle checking out of the conversation and sighed. Kyle was going to need convincing that this wasn’t just mindless droning. He stepped away from where he stood by the door, gently taking one of Kyle’s arms in his hand again. Kyle’s body went stiff and he tried to slip his arm out of Cartman’s grasp, but the brunette’s hold was firm enough Kyle couldn’t escape. Both Stan and Kenny shared a look, then turned to watch Cartman, confusion evident.

Cartman met Kyle’s gaze cooly, trying to not be affected by the fear in the dark green eyes. A strangled pleading noise caught in Kyle’s throat.

_Please don’t tell them._

Cartman shook his head slightly in response and reached for Kyle’s sleeve, only for Kyle to grip his hand and stop him like he had before. Cartman glanced up at Kyle again, managing to wrench his hand out of Kyle’s.

_Sorry._

Stan was about to ask what was going on, but whatever words he was going to say came out in a soft ‘oh’ when Cartman pushed the sleeve back up, displaying the lines covering Kyle’s arm. Both sets of blue eyes widened in shock, just like Cartman’s golden amber had done, taking in the sight, then softened when they looked up at Kyle’s broken expression.

“Kyle,” Stan breathed, the name involuntarily falling from his lips.

The redhead flinched back like he’d been burned and tore his arm out of Cartman’s hand, only to be caught by Kenny’s grasp. His arm was bent at an awkward angle and he hissed in discomfort. Kenny quickly loosened his hold and shifted so Kyle would be more comfortable but didn’t let go.

Kyle _hated_ this. He hated being stared at like a failed experiment, like he wasn’t human. All he wanted to do then was go to sleep and never wake up and be forgotten. He burned with embarrassment and shame, his chest heaved with short, panicked breaths. God, they were going to leave him because of this, doing this meant weakness, even more so than he was already, and he wasn’t meant to be like this, they were going to leave him _alone-_

Stan easily sensed the anxiety overtaking Kyle’s thoughts and gently shook Kyle’s shoulder to get his attention. Kyle’s clouded eyes turned and focused on Stan, enough that Stan knew he was mostly listening.

“Kyle, listen. This isn’t okay, or what you should do when you feel like shit. But this-” Stan reached over Kyle and gently grazed his hand over the underside of Kyle’s arm. “-doesn’t make you weak, got it?”

Kyle grimaced and didn’t answer.

Kenny let go of Kyle and reached into his parka for the med kit he usually carried, and when glanced at with a strange look from Kyle, he just shrugged and replied, “Just in case.” The blond shrugged off his jacket and laid it on the floor of the bathroom, sitting down on it and gesturing for Kyle to follow suit, Stan not far behind. The noirette positioned himself so his legs were crossed under Kyle, letting his arms rest around his waist with the redhead leaning back against his chest, his chin resting on Kyle’s shoulder. Kenny was in front of the two, rummaging through the kit as Stan murmured quiet reassurances in Kyle’s ear. Eventually, the smaller boy found what he was looking for, and reached for Kyle’s arm, pausing when Kyle stiffened, waiting patiently for Stan to relax Kyle again, then went to work, bandaging fresh cuts and cleaning off the arm so it would heal properly.

Cartman was out of place.

The brunette awkwardly watched the trio, unsure of where to go or what to do. He could see the trust growing in Kyle’s green eyes as he watched Kenny work, occasionally closing his eyes and leaning his head back against Stan’s shoulder. They cared about each other, something Cartman couldn’t and never would be a part of.

He shifted uneasily, finally silently padding to the door and reaching for the handle.

“Cartman,” Kyle suddenly called, voice hoarse, making the brunette freeze. He glanced over his shoulder at the three on the floor. Kenny hadn’t looked up from his task, but Stan and Kyle were both gazing at him, the intense mix of ocean blue and emerald green trapping Cartman where he stood.

“You can stay if you want,” Kyle said quietly. Stan remained indifferent while Kenny flashed Cartman a lopsided reassuring grin before reaching for Kyle’s other arm. That arm had just as many lines covering it, but Kyle didn’t seem to mind being exposed anymore.

Cartman exhaled slowly and made his way over to them, sitting down perpendicular to all of them. He didn’t know what compelled him to stay- maybe it was Kyle asking him to, or just wanting to skip the last period of the school day. Maybe he cared about all of them and wanted to be there to show he did. He really didn’t know. Cartman sat back on his hands, watching Kenny’s methodical movements for a few moments.

“Any of you guys finish Garrison’s essay yet?” Cartman asked, keeping his eyes trained on Kenny’s hands. Mr. Garrison was the history teacher at their school, which had led to some positively useless lessons on why 9/11 was a conspiracy or why global warming wasn’t real. Most of the topics he talked about weren’t even about history.

Stan immediately shook his head, or as well as he could with his head on Kyle’s shoulder. “God, dude, I can’t believe he managed to move up with us. Like, why would he even try to do that?”

Kenny snorted. “I’m pretty sure he’s the only one who can handle this grade. The other teachers I’ve had look like they want to die the instant any of us walk into the classroom. Garrison was probably forced to move up with us so the other teachers wouldn’t quit.

Kyle grinned. “It’s Cartman's fault-”

“Ay! No, it’s not!”

“It’s your fault!” Kyle insisted. “You’re infamous in this county, everyone knows who you are. Maybe even in this whole state.”

“Are you saying I’m famous, Jew?”

 _“No._ There’s a difference between being famous and being infamous.”

“Not to me,” Cartman laughed.

The two continued like that for the rest of the school day, Stan and Kenny occasionally adding comments between them, long after Kenny finished bandaging up Kyle’s arms. Surprisingly enough, no one tried to enter this bathroom, and the boys were left uninterrupted until the final bell rang.

Kenny waited until the other three had moved off of his jacket, wrinkling his nose at it in distaste as he picked it up. The blond looked like he was going to wear it again for a second but unsurprisingly decided against it, tying it around his waist instead. 

Kyle watched quietly, a small content smile toying at his lips. Stan nudged him with a shoulder to grab his attention, announcing he was going to start the car and if they didn’t get their asses out there in 5 minutes, he was going to leave without them. Cartman snickered at this obviously empty threat. Stan was much too nice to leave any of his friends behind if they needed a ride.

Kyle grabbed Cartman’s wrist as he made to leave after Kenny and Stan ran out the door in a race to Stan’s car, effectively stopping the brunette from going anywhere.

“You never did answer my question, dude,” Kyle prompted.

“What the hell are you talking about?” The redhead looked much more relaxed than he had in months. It was a good change, Cartman decided. But he still had no idea what Kyle was talking about.

“Why’re you here?”

Cartman paused. He remembered the question as soon as Kyle asked it again, but still hadn’t come up with an answer for it. 

After a bit, he just shrugged and shot a grin at Kyle. “By the moon and the stars in the sky, I’ll be there.”

Kyle stared at him for a few moments, trying to understand what he meant, then shook his head and laughed. “Guess so.”

**Author's Note:**

> i don't, really know where this came from??? i just kinda had a thought of 'kyle's had it rough for the past few seasons' and here this came i g u e s s. they're in like, middle school cause who doesn't have a shitty time in middle school. i know kyle probably would never do this but like man i didn't think before i started writing the self harm just made its way in there n i was like well guess this is what we're doing now  
> on a kinda separate note, if you're struggling with this feel free to vent to me or like pm me or whatever?? i dunno how ao3 really works but i mean go for it ig


End file.
